


equilibrium

by limstella



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Families of Choice, Gap Filler, Gen, Headcanon, HxHBB20, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Succession Contest Arc (Hunter X Hunter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26484838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limstella/pseuds/limstella
Summary: Three Xi-Yu family members on the waves to uncharted waters. An ode to bad decisions and making the best of them.
Relationships: Hinrigh Biganduffno & Zakuro Custard, Hinrigh Biganduffno/Lynch Fullbokko, Zakuro Custard & Lynch Fullbokko
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: HXHBB20





	1. August 7th, 2001

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was written for the [hxh big bang 2020 ](https://hxhbb20.tumblr.com/) and will form the first nine chapters of an ongoing project. for now enjoy the first three! tags are subject to change as i update, the only thing that'll stay for sure is the rating and archive warnings
> 
> check out [this lovely art](https://winderrific.tumblr.com/post/629367115574657024/heres-my-piece-for-the-hxhbb20-it-goes) done for the event by [@winderrific on tumblr!](https://winderrific.tumblr.com/)

On the evening of boarding, the sky is melting into the sea like strawberry sorbet. With the realization that they won’t see one again for months, Zakuro regrets not appreciating them more. They gaze at the shore and think of all the festivities happening there. The ferry they’re on and the ships in the harbor behind them are dwarfed by the Black Whale in front of them, more like a floating city than anything. It’s too late to look back now.

Next to them, Lynch holds onto her wide brimmed sun hat, which by all rules should belong to a fittingly bigger person. She does have the energy of one, with the kind of unyielding aura they only hope to reach one day. Hinrigh is close by her with his hair fluttering in the wind, his gaze fixed on something on the shore until it falls onto Zakuro.

“How are you feeling?” His voice flies on the wind, featherlight.

“I’m well!” The snappy, appeasing answer rolls off their tongue easier than anything, and in a moment they wonder if they should’ve been more sincere. They know Hinrigh and Lynch want to listen to them, but it makes no sense to burden them now with something they can’t change. The two of them have a thousand grievances about this journey too.

Some people like adventure, from a bit of adrenaline rush to fearing for their life. Zakuro has mixed feelings on it all. They made sure to pack up well, bring some good boots, but a generous piece of their heart was left at home, in the safety and comfort of the familiar.

Lynch pats them on the back, and they feel their eyes well up. They try to destress by counting the people around them, wondering if they’re official or unofficial passengers like them. The lottery was reported as outsold in record time and it was a mess, but the Community got a lot of mileage from it, reselling a lot of tickets even at the last minute.

“Let’s not lose each other in the crowd, okay?” Lynch looks at them, then at Hinrigh who’s on the phone but gives a nod. Zakuro holds onto her backpack, which she doesn’t mind.

When the crowd begins moving, bunched into smaller groups in an attempt to control the sea of people, they follow the directions of soldiers to board. Zakuro takes a while to take in their surroundings as the insides of the whale give way to an uncanny model city.

The military escort drops them after a while, and in that time Zakuro grasps the sheer scope of this ship. Moving steadily onwards, Hinrigh directs them further, and the large, unfamiliar crowd has thinned out into fewer faces, some of them familiar and some not.

Hidden in plain sight in what’s set up to be a market square, is their base. Hinrigh unlocks the camera-flanked door behind the obscure entrance and leads the small Xi-Yu group in. The inside is well-lit, the winding corridors paneled with wood and decorated simply.

“I oversaw a lot of the building,” Hinrigh says, craning his neck. “It’s bigger than the outside would suggest, but it’s no five-star hotel. It’s just a base to connect us to the boss’ quarters, hold our monitor room and living spaces for the few of us staying here.”

Zakuro feels content knowing there won’t be too many people here. Others from the family are probably strewn all across the deck in their own hideouts, or among the regular passengers. Hinrigh promised them their own cabin, and they’ll take it, as small as it is.

Hinrigh stops to direct some of the associates until what’s left after the split heading down one final-looking corridor is himself, Zakuro and Lynch who seems happy at that.

“So, we really are getting our little suite.” She takes off her hat and fiddles with it.

“Yeah! It was intended to be mine, but you know I love to share so I redid it a bit.”

Beyond the door they’re greeted by simple furniture alongside boxes and crates, and just before Hinrigh can say something else he was going to, his phone rings.

While he’s having an important-sounding conversation, Zakuro scopes the room and notices a couple of doors that Lynch is already checking out, that probably lead to the sleeping cabins, or the bathrooms or kitchen, which they’re hopefully going to have here.

“What’s in there?” They ask, trailing behind her, and soon get their answer as they come upon what seems to be their cabin, looking more like a closet with a bed, but at least with enough space to put their things. They’re glad they don’t tend to bring a lot on trips.

“You’ve got a bathroom in there, but it’s tiny. Ours is, too, though!” They can’t tell from her tone whether she’s dejected or emboldening, maybe just a bit of both, down to earth.

“That’s alright!” It’ll take some time to get used to, but what doesn’t. They take their backpack off, having almost forgotten they had it on, and unpack it.

They find Hinrigh back in the small living quarters, the suddenly tired expression on his face brought on by something at the other end of the phone line. For a moment he cradles the device with the impression of wanting to chuck it away, then looks at them.

“I’m heading up,” he says as Lynch arrives behind them. “Boss called a report in person.” Zakuro thinks upon it a bit until it dawns on them that they’re on the lower end of the ship with their boss allegedly around the top, and the grimaces come almost in unison.

“Are we having some kind of meeting before the departure?” Lynch asks.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll call you about it so we can gather people up,” he replies, rubbing his forehead. “Also my office is a bit further out, I’ll probably be spending more time in there than I was betting on, just so I can be on hand to everyone. See you soon, I hope!”

With that, he leaves Zakuro and Lynch to look around some more and get settled in.

* * *

After exploring what they could of the base, Zakuro safely concludes that it’s alright. The monitor room has a few workers doing the installation of cameras that they didn’t want to bother, and the other rooms have some associates and guards settling in marginally worse bunks than theirs. There’s even a little kitchen in their suite.

In the storage, they pick up their packed things and the first aid kit Hinrigh prepared for them but don’t look in his office, as it feels inappropriate when he isn’t inside. Navigating their base has gotten less confusing already, but the worries from before creep up on them with the knowledge this is really where they’ll be staying for some time. This giant moving vessel to nowhere.

On one hand, they’re a part of something they thought would be reserved for the ultra-rich, but they can’t imagine why someone would want to set out like this willingly. As pathetic as it sounds in their head, they don’t want to die, and they don’t want their loved ones to die, which they already worry about. But this world is familiar, the underworld and violence and all, who knows what awaits them out there where so few have been.

It’s like living in a movie, but they’d never want to actually be a fantasy or sci-fi hero. Life is hard enough as is. Zakuro sighs, wondering if they should talk to Lynch about it.

She’s lounging on the couch, though they’re not exactly sure what it’s called, and reading something on her laptop. They sit beside her, and she acknowledges them immediately.

“How do you like it here?” She asks, turning her attention towards Zakuro.

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course, you always can!” Lynch sighs. “Not good, is it?”

They shrug, unsure of what to say, how to even begin with something that runs far deeper than their accommodations, which by all means are fine.

“I guess I just don’t want to go. I know we’ve talked about this, but I’m still not…”

Unsure of what to say, they straighten up, even though they want to curl up right now. How stupid are they to be talking about this again. They didn’t want to ruin her birthday over it, so they just kept it in them for a while, but now the unease is gnawing on them.

“It’s alright. I understand, I know it doesn’t mean much but I won’t ever leave your side. I’ll be with you, Hinrigh too, and I’ll make sure we remain in one piece no matter what.”

They don’t know if the last line is supposed to be comical, but it prompts a chuckle, at which Lynch seems to be pleased. She moves aside to make make room for them, and they gently lean on her, hugging her from the side while watching to not discomfort her.

“Thank you,” Zakuro murmurs, wanting to beat themself up for not snapping out of it already, but they know how hard it is. They hug Lynch more tightly, which brings them some comfort, both in the pressure and feeling cared for. “Um… what are you reading?”

Unfazed by or understanding of their sudden change of topic, she readily answers. “I’m trying to study a bit! Now’s a good time as any to start prepare for a far-off thesis, right?”

This sort of approach, this confidence that she’ll be back home and at college in no time, for better or worse, strikes a chord in them that not even many earnest assurances did.

“You’re making me think of college now. When we return,” Not if, “I want to enroll!” The timing of this journey made that a no-go for the year.

“Just don’t rush it if you’re not sure. I was an arena fighter at your age, as you know, just living it up. I have some regrets here and there, but I know that had I had the money to go to college earlier, I would’ve gotten into something that wouldn’t keep my interest. It’s okay to think about it. Well, now is the perfect time to think about it for next year.”

“You’re right, it’s good advice… I’d like to go into hospitality or something, I think.”

“As long as you have something to ponder, think about it. I’ll try to help you.” She lets the laptop balance on her legs and turns aside to hug Zakuro back, holding them gently.

“Hey, can you show me some of your old fights again? If you have them here.”

“You bet I do!” Lynch taps her laptop. “But you better not make fun of my haircut.”

“I never made fun of it, really, I just said it was interesting! Not in a bad way.”

She chuckles at that. “Don’t worry, I believe you. I’d have made fun of me, though.”

Zakuro shifts a bit, still leaning on Lynch while she looks through her video folder for something to show off. There’s quite a lot in there, as it’s one of her biggest interests even years after leaving the arena. They always like to listen to her talk about it, and trying to imagine Lynch before they knew her is easier when they can see her on screen.

Young Lynch stands upright, staring down – or staring up, more like – an opponent just as confident as her. It’s one of the later fights in her short career, one that cemented the popularity she built up in that time before it fizzled out. They know how this one ends, but it’s still entertaining to watch and see how when it comes to Nen, less can beat more.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Zakuro lets their jaw drop a bit at the unmatched speed of her punches. She uses her small stature to her advantage as well, as they have already seen in person.

Time flies when they’re having fun, and they watch some more, easing into commentary on it, until Hinrigh calls to prepare for the meeting. As Zakuro has no obligation to attend it for a few reasons, they peace out and go to their cabin to let Lynch organize in peace.

* * *

Their bed is the least comfortable they’ve had in a long time, Zakuro realizes after what must be hours of trying and failing to sleep. They toss and turn, to no avail. Maybe it isn’t technically a bad bed, but it’s different enough that it’s so uncomfortable to lay in.

Zakuro sits up carefully, uneasy on their legs, and goes to retrieve their phone. They pull the charger out of the wall and plug their earphones in, then bounce back on the bed. Maybe some music could put them to sleep, or a podcast or something. Their earphones, however, don’t cooperate, and they let out their last sound in the form of a sharp crack.

Well, the earphones served them well back when they worked. Zakuro notes to themself to look for new ones in the morning, going ahead to write a note about it on their phone. The frame of their IV stand looms ominously in the dim light.

Maybe they could ask Lynch to get some if she heads out somewhere earlier than they do tomorrow, which is all but guaranteed. They tiptoe to her cabin, unsure if she went to sleep. According to their phone it’s not super late, but they all had a bustling day. Her cabin is quiet, and they intend to keep it that way when they find her sleeping.

Though if they remember correctly, that’s Hinrigh’s cabin too, and he’s nowhere to be seen. He may have retreated to his office after the meeting, or maybe he went out, or is having a midnight snack. Zakuro puts on a pair of slippers and heads out to the corridor.

The only sound they can hear is carefree laughter from a bunk cabin down the hall. When they reach the office door, they rap on it once, then once again until a response comes.

“Come on in!” Hinrigh’s voice sounds from the inside.

He looks as tired as he sounds, and Zakuro finds him in the middle of a yawn, leaning over his desk. “Oh, it’s you, Zakuro! You don’t have to knock. Well, nobody does, really.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” They reply, in that moment unsure why they’re whispering.

“I’m always glad to see you, but aren’t you tired?” Hinrigh cocks his head.

“Aren’t you?” Zakuro retorts without thinking too hard about it. Maybe they really are too tired to function. “I don’t mean it in a mean way, really, I just thought you looked kinda...”

“No, it’s alright, you’re right. I should be finishing this up too. I bet the boss fell asleep hours ago. Oh, do you know how ridiculous his cabin is? It’s like he’s replicating a bit of his house, and I can’t fault him for that, but I can’t say I’m a big fan of his decorations.”

Zakuro met the boss directly only once, so most of their impressions come from Hinrigh’s own words, mostly frustrations. When he tries to describe the room, they’re at a loss. On one hand, they’d probably like to have a replica of their room if they really had to part from it. On the other, they’re quite sure no person needs so many taxidermized animals.

“Did it take you long to get up there?”

“Not super long, I took an elevator.” Hinrigh assures them, sounding relieved. It would be terribly unreasonable to make him walk, but the world isn’t very reasonable already.

“Ah, good… I think I should try to sleep again,” Zakuro yawns.

“Wait up, I’m going too!” Hinrigh dusts himself off and follows them through the door.

When they reach their little suite as Lynch called it, Zakuro pauses a bit before saying good night and offers Hinrigh a hug. He goes for it, leaning down a bit and holding them firmly for a pleasant moment. “Sleep well,” he tells them before heading to sleep himself.

Zakuro finds themself back in their room, and sits down on the bed. They pull up their laptop to send a few more messages to their friends online while they can, before the ship sets sail in the morning and there’s no more internet for months, according to what Hinrigh told them. They will probably oversleep the departure, but they don’t really care.

Some funny and heartfelt messages brighten up their night, but also revive their worries and homesickness for another round. They wish they had the chance to talk to Hinrigh about it as well, who’s probably already sleeping like a log. He deserves that rather than wracking his mind over them anyway, but just like Lynch, he knows how to comfort them.

When they were younger and couldn’t sleep, haunted by night terrors and flashbacks, at least one of them would get up and take them to the balcony for some fresh air. They would watch the stars together despite the light pollution in the city, playing who could identify more of them, and Hinrigh would often make up constellations based on animals.

They obviously can’t do something like that now, and it hurts, but they remember what Lynch told them, how assured she was they would stick together and make it back home.

Sleep tugs at their eyelids as they look for some more music and movies to download while it’s still possible, and they stretch as far as they can. They set their laptop aside and curl up with their phone under the sheets in their last languid effort to correspond.

Zakuro hums a melody they can’t put a name on, one that makes them imagine a dance of snowflakes on a cold winter’s day, and the waves far beneath them lull them to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed the first chapter! english isn't my first language nor do i usually write in present tense, but it felt right for the suspended in motion atmosphere of this fic. i had the help of a wonderful beta writer for an earlier draft of this so here's to hoping the esl doesn't show too much! this chapter didn't have any warnings, but i want to issue a blanket warning for the future: abuse and family death are themes that may come up in the future narrative at some point
> 
> a few more things to sign off, please mind the tags as this is borderline slice of life that follows togashi's sparse plot in the lower tiers. if you've read the manga (if you haven't, i suggest to read it so you can understand the context) you'll know it picks up in a few days, but don't expect a lot of action or wild twists just yet. as i wrote above this is an ongoing project, so i plan to write more chapters until i feel the story togashi wants to tell is wrapped up, and i already have the overarching arc for this story planned out on my part. some things will definitely be subject to retcons if he provides us with some info that would warrant that


	2. August 8th, 2001

There’s nothing better than a brisk morning walk and meditation to begin the day with some clarity. Though fresh air is a whole ventilation system away, and everything else that brings her this clarity is indoors with her, Lynch can’t bring herself to eschew her morning routine.

Even with having prepared, she finds the reality on board truly lacking. She was born to be out on the sea, but not like this. With no horizon to set her eyes upon, no sea wind and salty air nor windows to peer outside, it feels like a sealed chamber over anything a ship should be, and the memories of what it’s like to truly sail bubble up with irritation.

She’ll make peace with being here for the time being, having waved her apartment goodbye. A life without change is dull anyway, and if she tells herself that enough, she might even start believing it one day. Maybe their destination will actually make for a suitable home, but it’s yet to be seen. Despite everything, it's a nice day to have a walk.

The space she passes through is unnaturally lit, with its ceiling stretched as far as the eye can see, crowded and full of odors even on the morning before they’ve set sail. As far as she knows, they’re still in the harbor and life moves as usual, waiting for nobody.

It already looks distinctly lived in, with the occasional cracked window, barred door, or _closed_ sign on display. A few soldiers passing by occasionally gives a reminder of their presence, supposed rule of the turf. The syndicate’s claws have dug into the whale’s flesh, with opportunistic criminals scraping off whatever they can. Anything for a living.

A glint of light occasionally catches her eye as she maneuvers through with an easy gait, her arm hooked steadily under her handbag, though down here there isn’t much to see. The decks above offer many more things, but the upper tiers must hold some very interesting boutiques of a higher caliber, for now inaccessible to someone like her.

She finds herself in the narrowing area of a bazaar, and an aura as sharp as a blizzard challenges that people, who all have places to be, think twice before bumping into her. Lynch has seen it in action enough to know she’ll be undisturbed while inspecting the stalls unless some unfortunate Nen user who doesn’t know better is looking for a fight.

The fresh produce and street food would be more delectable if she were hungry. She ponders buying some for later before moving onto an array of little trinkets far too fragile to be lined up on the edge of the table. A nearby mirror proves useful for fixing up her hair and admiring herself a bit. This must be the stand of very breakable things.

As a child, she’d ofttimes wander through places like this, trying to touch everything. Browsing a promising-looking stand with books gives her nothing of note, with not even the covers being interesting. She doesn’t want to leave before reaching the end of the bazaar or finding something worth buying. Maybe some flowers, as there’s a lot of them around. Fortune smiles upon her in the form of a nearby electronics stall.

The phones look dodgy, but the earphones she was looking for seem well enough, who knows where she’ll be able to find a store. She pulls out her own phone, glad that it’s still useful in the harbor, as she left her satellite phone back in her room, still not used to carrying it around. Zakuro’s chipper voice greets her from the other side of the line.

“I’ve found some earphones, what kind do you want?”

“Nice! Hm, some that look like my old ones? Nothing expensive, they’ll probably break again soon anyway,” Zakuro titters, with the hum of some television in the background.

“Alright, take care! I’ll bring them later.” They say goodbye, and Lynch looks around a little more. She gets the ones that look least likely to immediately break and hopes Zakuro will find them suitable. The small box holds a white pair with changeable buds, and the price is a bit lower than in electronics stores, hopefully not reflective of quality.

There’s still the flowers, she ponders while making her way through the crowd, she’d like to get Hinrigh something too. The flowers’ time is ticking, a perishable goodbye to home that’ll wilt before they reach solid ground again. All the more reason to purchase.

They’re gathered in bunches, huddled closer than the passengers of these lower tiers. Purple butterfly wings with dashes of yellow draw her eye to a bundle of irises, so she pulls out the prettiest one. The change in her purse rattles again. She emits some aura into the flower to keep it strong and places it in her bag gently, careful not to crease it.

An earsplitting sound of a horn cuts through whatever thought she was forming, and she recoils slightly, digging her nails into her palms. A distant speaker announces that it’s departure time, and she hums in response. It should probably feel grander, like the big step for humanity it is, but the ground underneath her feet stays as still as it was earlier.

In any case, she wants to return to Hinrigh and Zakuro soon, eat some breakfast. She casts a few glances at some of the stalls she hasn’t browsed yet and retraces her steps.

* * *

She finds the office in a state of controlled disarray, with Hinrigh seemingly thriving in all of that, already used to it. His attention moves to her when she enters and he lifts his head to greet her, though his fingers are still tapping away on the laptop keyboard.

“Did you have a nice walk?” He pauses typing and lifts himself up to meet her properly. All prim and done up, in his suit with no tie in his distaste for them, a customary look for him. Despite how strung out he looks, he lets it go for a moment and smiles at her.

“I’ve had better ones.” Lynch walks over an empty box, trying not to step in it. She reaches into her handbag, holding it behind herself, out of sight. “I got you something!”

She presents the flower which she happily notes hasn’t folded weird or withered yet, strengthened adequately with Nen and maybe love. For a moment, Hinrigh eyes it a bit like he just licked a lemon, which she knows means he’s very touched, simply by knowing him for so long that all his thanks and _you really shouldn’t haves_ feel familiar.

It's just a flower, but she’s definitely glad he likes it. “ _Iris xiberica_. It needs some water; I know I had a vase around here…” He looks around, seeming to spot the box he needs but before going to get it, gives her a peck on the forehead that’s sudden but welcome.

“I only get that?”

“Bring more flowers next time.” They share a laugh at that, but she’s of half a mind to tell him sure, she can go get some more. A single flower is special, but neither of them tend to skimp on gifts. On her birthday, just a few days ago, he surrounded her with so many beautiful things, most important of which is his presence. He called her a big sap when she said it, but almost teared up, as he’s of course guilty of the same sentiments.

It's not his birthday yet, but he still deserves to feel nice. She wants to pull him into a hug, but just as she’s hooked a finger in his collar, there’s a stir at the door behind her.

“I uh… boss, Miss Fullbokko. Bad time?”

“Nah. What do you need?” She has the first response as she turns around to greet an awkward-looking captain, who babbles something at a speed she honestly can’t follow.

“I’ll be in a minute.” With an apologetic huff, Hinrigh places the flower on his table but not before unsubtly waving it around a bit, then follows the man just outside the door.

While the two are discussing something, she makes herself comfortable in Hinrigh’s chair, spinning around in it a few times. His laptop background is a photo of their first New Year with Zakuro, them effectively hiding behind her as they were small enough to do that back then, and Hinrigh brandishing candied haw as long as his arm, that she can remember got stuck in his hair. It was a pain to get out, but her memory of it all is nothing but joy.

“Hey, where am I gonna sit now?” Hinrigh returns, not a hint of annoyance in his voice since he already seems to know the answer when she taps her hands atop her own legs.

He’s not very heavy, and folds into an embrace languidly resting his head upon hers. “Are you tired?” He gives a hum in response. “I can cover for you if you need to go lay down.” She’d stay like this with him for as long as they want to, but he deserves to rest.

“I’m alright, don’t worry about it.” Hinrigh lowers himself a bit closer to her level with an excited smile on his lips. “Have you heard what they said over the broadcast earlier?”

“What?”

“In the uncharted waters, flying creatures fighting over territories and struggling for survival make for dangerous skies and-“ His face noticeably sinks as he recites it. “Well, that’s why this whole thing is closed… but what I wouldn’t give just to see them flying.”

“There are windows on the first tier.” Lynch kisses him on the neck while he’s in reach.

He shivers, though not uncomfortably. “Yeah, but they’re closing that up with a dome by the time it gets interesting. Alright, I’m… sadly parting from you to go grab a glass.”

“Of water?” She gives the chair another spin when he gets up.

“Yeah, for the flower. I have a vase around here somewhere, but it will do for now.”

“Need some help with this stuff?” She rises from the chair and picks up the nearest box, which holds a couple of stacked photo frames. There’s something heavier in the next box under the table, that turns out to be a simple glass vase. “I guess this would be it!”

“Ah! You really don’t have to, but thanks… I’ll get the rest in order.” He has his own way of organizing, so she leaves him to it. The laptop, a few stacked boxes, some notes and a pen holder are shuffled around, and in the meantime Lynch puts the flower into the vase now filled with water. They gaze upon the results, and Hinrigh seems content.

With him, it’s easy to forget he’s technically her boss now. Ever since his promotion he’s strived to make her feel like even more than an equal, inadvertently giving her a right-hand role which she doesn’t mind at all. In the end he remains her dearest friend.

Hinrigh picks up a mechanical pen, looking a bit lost in thought. “So what should I get you…” He twirls it around in his fingers, and she’s about to tell him she really doesn’t need anything when he hands it over to her with a _ta-da_ \- only it’s not a pen anymore.

Well, it’s mostly not a pen anymore. What’s formed from the inside and around it is a closed purple crocus flower, and Hinrigh thrums his fingers together as she inspects it.

Lynch carefully twists what’s left of the pen’s end, curious to what will happen, and the flower opens to show its yellow heart and delicate petals. “That’s really well done! And beautiful… thanks.” It’s not the first time he’s done so, but it never fails to amaze her, his ability in general, something unique to him that all grew out of his own dedication.

Though they don’t always see eye to eye – it’s hard to when he has a head over her – they’ve had a connection since they were young, and the things that alienate them from others only drew them to each other more. She wouldn’t trade him for the whole world.

“Have you seen Zakuro?” Lynch asks, recalling what she was about to do next. She saw them earlier this morning but not on the way to here, they could have passed each other by.

“They went to the joint across from here, or the one next, I think.” Hinrigh gives her a kiss goodbye, and she ruffles his hair before setting out. “Oh, if you end up getting food, could you bring me something too? Just choose something, you know what I like.”

She nods, already having some options in mind for each of them. Hopefully, they’ll get to cook more soon, when they get a bit more settled in this temporary lifestyle change.

* * *

As her judgement rarely seems to be wrong, Lynch finds Zakuro with little trouble, in the mid-range restaurant a bit further from their hideout’s entrance. They’re facing away under a mounted TV on which some b-movie is playing, so she approaches them.

“How’s it going?” Zakuro looks startled for a split second before waving back at her. She takes a seat on the leather sofa across from them and sets her handbag down on it.

“Good morning! Well, afternoon.” They glance at their phone with a shrug, then place it down next to the empty plate on the table. “I wanted to see if the food here is worth it.”

“So, is it? I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I liked the pancakes! Um, here.” Zakuro hands her a plastic menu, and Lynch peruses it for a moment, deciding on the recommended pancakes and tea to go with it. When the waiter comes to take her order and Zakuro’s dishes, they order tea for themself as well.

“You can order as much as you want, I’m paying.” They give a soft smile and lace their fingers on the tabletop, occasionally glancing up at the TV screen. “What movie is that?”

“ _Vampire Firefighter_ , it’s pretty fun.”

“Let me guess what happens to the hero,” Lynch snickers, and they laugh at that.

“You’ll jinx it… I really like her! From what I’ve managed to follow, at least.” When their tea arrives, Lynch feels the heat and leaves it to cool a bit more. She taps her fingers on her cup while trying to catch some of the movie. Zakuro takes a careful sip from theirs.

“Don’t burn your tongue,” she chides them lightly.

They chat some more until her pancakes arrive, and Zakuro declines a second portion, content with their warm drink for now. Lynch, finally realizing how hungry she is at the sight of her breakfast, digs in. The pancakes are fluffy and suit the green tea fairly well.

Zakuro waits until she’s chewed her bite before posing their question. “Can we go to the cinema some day? There must be one around here.” She nods and takes a quick sip.

“Sure! We could even go today. Should I ask Hinrigh?”

“If he can come, that’d be great!” Zakuro rests their head in their hands.

“Remind me to order something for him to go when we’re leaving.”

“Will you get pancakes for him too?”

“Probably. Oh, I almost forgot,” she reaches into her handbag for the earphones she got them but pulls out the pen-flower first and twirls it around, showing it off while it lasts. The aura in it feels wobbly and weaker than earlier, which is to be expected. Zakuro looks intrigued when she places it in their hand. “Hinrigh got me this! Well, he made it.”

“It’s really cool.” They unwind and rewind it a few times, apprehensively at first.

“And that wasn’t even it,” Lynch sets the box on the table, “I got these for you.”

“Thank you! I can’t believe I almost thought you forgot about it.” They hide their face behind their hands for a moment. After unpacking the earphones, they offer Lynch one to try out, reaching far enough across the small table. It soon sounds with heavy music.

“No problem, any time! And that sounds like it works.” Zakuro tinkers with the volume on their phone, and she gets the flower back to hold it close just in time for it to morph back into what it was. She scribbles a little flower on her hand, just like back in the day.

“Um, the quality is nice, at least what I can hear in one ear. And I have many kinds of music here, if you want to listen to it some more.” She nods, and Zakuro smiles at that.

“Okay, here’s Chaos Ceremony.” It sounds like the name would suggest, not really her thing as she prefers softer, catchier music, but she can see the appeal, so she bobs her head and gives a thumbs up. “This is my favorite album of this year. Pretty good, right?”

“Yeah, it’s interesting!” Lynch finishes the last remnants of her pancakes and sets the fork and knife across the plate with a resounding clank, then downs the rest of her tea.

“I kind of want to ask for the recipe,” Zakuro muses.

“They’ll give it for sure if I ask.” Both snicker at that. In Lynch’s opinion, they already make very good pancakes, but even with all they know, they’re always looking to learn some more. She’s proud of them for that, and makes sure to encourage them. Zakuro sways and hums to the music while the TV above them plays an insurance commercial.

Lynch briefly looks around for the waiter, then back at Zakuro lost in their thoughts. She makes sure to treasure their smile, reminding her that she’s doing something right. Whatever this journey accomplishes, her own better tomorrow lies in their happiness, which gives her the strength to look forward no matter what life throws at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter holds one of the earliest scene concepts i wrote down and just didn't let go of, can you tell? the rest of it went through a thousand and one changes though, as did most of the fic. to my artists, i hope you enjoy reading this quite different new draft of it!
> 
> if any readers have questions i'd love to answer them so feel free to ask anything, or just put down any of your thoughts in the comments
> 
> also i'm writing these before i finally go to sleep so hopefully no mistakes await me in the morning


	3. August 9th, 2001

It’s hard to believe they’ve been one day at sea, when it feels like endlessly more or but a mere hour or two. Time is a vague concept now. Hinrigh adjusts his wristwatch to see it better. Despite being surrounded by at least two digital clocks at all times, wearing it lets him feel more at ease, and it looks lavish too. It better, for all the money it’s worth.

He listens to a lieutenant’s report on the state of groceries in the mid-area of the tier, nodding along. The prices of all but the most basic items are steep, but it’s the only way to compensate what they buy them for. Right now, the passengers’ basic needs depend on them. It’s a fraught relationship, both dependent on each other, and the sheer number of them could decimate Xi-Yu’s numbers down to the handful of Nen users if not pacified. As someone once on the other side of this he knows it all too well.

“Are these your kids, boss?” A query snaps him out of his thoughts. Yan fiddles with the envelope in his hands, looking at the little photo frame on the desk. He’s a decent man even so in this line of work, loyal to his brother if a bit too much for his own good.

“That’s me! And that’s Lynch.” He holds back a snicker as he rotates the photo. They’re primary school-aged at some fair, making faces. Of all his beloved photo-documented memories, which decreased in physical format with the onset of digitalization, it’s one he’d least mind getting waterlogged in the worst case, as the photo booth they took it in made several copies they each treasure to this day. “You really thought I had kids?”

“Right! Not sure why, I just assumed.” Yan shrugs, then respectfully bids him goodbye to head out. He leaves the money on the table. Hinrigh is content. A family man is a good image to have, that is when there isn’t a family to be threatened by the exposure.

Without any inquiries, any reports, anyone in his office right now, he can take a breath. He's alone for the moment, infinitely large and small. The boss and consigliere are in their VVIP lodgings, eating, drinking, thinking of the worst possible times to call him up, the works, and they’ve left him in charge of the largest most bustling tier on board.

Thousands of people pass through the central accessways every day and their transfer whether circular or permanent would normally be in the hands of the royal army. Now, with the expected discord and disorder, a fair deal of the duty falls on their syndicate. Not that he minds it, of course, they play into their own hands while holding the turf Their only real problem is being stationed between territories of the other two families.

He feels an indirect judgmental stare of half a dozen authors from the minimized copy of “The Outer Oceans: Climatology, Oceanography, Geology, and Biology” on his laptop, but there’s no helping it. His persistent attempt to do some light reading in preparation for both excursion to an unknown ecosystem and his own degree on hopeful return fell flat on each disturbance, each distant sound making the murky fog in his mind heavier.

The back of his chair is sticky, and he can’t seem to sit comfortably. It feels like blood rather than sweat. His forehead meets the desk with a dull thud. One chapter will be enough for today, or so he tells himself with his eyes shut. He used to read whatever captured his interest at breakneck speed, but it feels distant now. That was the youth eager to do anything to finance his studies, who imagined the glamorous life of a boss.

There’s never been a long shelf life for the family’s underbosses. His relations got him noticed, but being a Nen user who can keep track of others, good with numbers and easy to control on the account of his age and influence got him to where he is. He’s ran the gamut of fortune and misfortune but all he has to show is being an elevated lackey.

For every envelope that passes through his hands that he ofttimes has no room to take a cut of, he knows less about it than he imagined he would. Even with Lynch by his side and a handful of intelligence associates, he’s lost. The rackets he’s a partner in, the counterfeiting and smuggling schemes he came from, are overshadowed by the business of people with more power than him who he’s supposed to be keeping in line.

He cannot tell what kind of opportunities this journey will bring, but he’s not going to fall like the ones before him. The way out will be revealed, sooner or later. He isn’t counting on this being a one-way trip, something Lynch agreed with him on when they discussed it. If the Boss stays on the Dark Continent, he can take a new underboss, and Hinrigh can go work for the acting boss in Kakin, even if he has to paddle his way back. But if the Boss wants to return, he will have to rethink this. His head continues to hurt. 

In spite of everything, Hinrigh is still alive. And he’s certainly not alone, despite feeling that way since being promoted. The people dearest to him are here, they light up his field of view when he lifts his gaze to the screen. And he’s gonna be late to the cinema.

Not wanting to keep Lynch and Zakuro waiting, he leaves an informative note on the table and straightens up the flower in the vase. He smooths his jacket and fits both his regular and satellite phone into the inner pockets. It's come to the point where he hears them ringing at random. The underboss deserves some time off too, or else he will flip.

* * *

The ship’s interior is something he’s still getting used to, and will continue to, day by day. Occasionally a gust of circulated wind somewhere from the vents ruffles his hair, little insects scuttle across the floor, and of course people pass through without pause, but other than that, remarkably still. The motion is saved for the waves that rock them.

Lynch and Zakuro await him by a street food place’s front on the avenue of the fourth deck, having seemingly finished the work they had long ago. Laughing together about something, they both spot him around twenty feet away and call out, Zakuro swinging their legs through the stool’s, and Lynch giving him a little wave. “So here he is, finally!”

“Don’t worry, we didn’t wait for long,” she adds. “The depot guy was giving me trouble; you should’ve seen the look on his face!” She hops from the stool, the train of her shirt sliding across it, and she dusts off her palms. He can always count on her, no question.

“He must have been really sorry after.” Zakuro adjusts their tunic, shuffling around.

Lynch snickers at that. “I didn’t get any leads from him, but at least I know where not to look.” She fixes up her bun in the display of a store with undeniably counterfeit jewelry.

The quality of life and standard of services is proportional to the tiers and their decks, generally speaking. And while the top floor would naturally be the site of turf wars with the enemy above, there’s been a conspicuous lack of that, and radio silence from the Heil-Ly. He suspects foul play, as there’s already some anomalies in the flow of money.

The Cha-R underlings on the other hand, have had some trouble of their own. He didn’t think much about it, but it’s worth paying attention to considering the people involved.

“Did you see anything interesting?” Hinrigh casts a brief glance left to where a sign is proclaiming an allegedly unbelievable sale, then back to Zakuro and Lynch on his right.

“Um, there’s a concert – The Announcers,” Zakuro pipes up, and Hinrigh feels his own eyebrows connecting with his hairline, “Tribute Band.” Oh. Better than nothing at least.

“That is pretty interesting, but have you seen any strange people?”

“Strange? Oh,” Lynch’s voice sinks for a moment, then returns to its usual booming quality. “No, I don’t think so. And I was on watch for Nen users even, still nothing.”

Word of the Spiders on board spread much earlier out of wariness for the possibility, but it was an incident on the fifth deck that solidified their presence. Though their goal is unclear, it’s a given to him that they’re going to cause commotion, as wild cards with no interest in hiding Nen from the public do. As their interactions with the Community seldom end well, it’s best to keep an eye on them, but that’s proving to be quite a task.

“There’s so many people around,” Zakuro interjects, a bit annoyed, after narrowly avoiding the impact of another passerby’s shoulder. “It’s like everyone’s outside!”

Lynch puts herself on the other side of Zakuro in an elegant blink-and-you’ll-miss-it step and turn, shielding them from any future bump-ins with her own smaller frame.

“Do you know where to from here?” She asks, her hands leisurely filling in the pockets of her shorts. He remembers her complaining about it being impossible to find nice shorts with pockets, so he looked high and low with her, and these definitely look nice!

“Yeah, I came from that direction, it’s not far off!” Zakuro cocks their head as a pointer. “Speaking of, the work by the stern seems to be going well. I even helped them a little.”

Despite the Black Whale 1 ostensibly being a finished project, it’s still being worked on from the inside. The parts that hold construction sites, storage houses or facilities like waste management, far ends were given to the Community who provided construction and cargo services in return, lowering the cost of the government’s project investment.

It's a pretty good bargain, all things considered, and none have it better than their family. Sure, the third tier looks more appealing, but the gate to the second tier is blocked, cutting them off on one side, while the fourth serves as the hub of traffic.

Across the lively crowd of people, over the various similarly constructed buildings, a flashing pointer sign indicates the cinema that’s not yet in the line of sight being undoubtedly close. “Oh, do you wanna see the movie?” Lynch asks, and even before he can answer it - to which he’d say yes - Zakuro passes him the folded cinema pamphlet.

Just one look reveals this really isn’t the kind of multiplex he’s used to, with one movie per screening time and just a few of them repeated over and over. The Tier 4 standard, he supposes. He recognizes the next projection, The Longest Adventure, its very vague trailer dropped not too long after the official announcement of the voyage to the Dark Continent last year, and it by all logic must’ve been in production for some time longer.

“Do you think it looks interesting?” Zakuro’s shoulders almost connect with their ears.

“Yeah, it’s a good choice!” He expects it’s going to suck, but he can’t say that to them when they had to choose one out of the limited options. Who knows, maybe it’ll be fun.

“Are we getting snacks?” Lynch rattles her wallet lightly. She’s always insisted on paying for others, even when she was on hard times herself and as a kid, he always tried to refuse, embarrassed, but little Lynch would stand firm and get sad. He didn’t want her to be sad. For the same reason, as adults now, they’d argue over it until he realized there was no use, and he can best ease her burdens by trying to be the first one to pay.

This time he knows he’s not fast enough, so he just nods in defeat, to her delight.

* * *

The movie is better than expected, though he misses an early chunk of it while on the phone, explaining to the Boss that he’s doing something he’s actually finished already. It’s full of plot holes, corny lines, scientific inaccuracies and a whole host of missed opportunities, but it’s got something that he understands would appeal to people. It’s the opposite of a disaster movie, the most disastrous part being the effects, so it’s fine.

One highlight is that Sonne Limarch, his big actor crush back in the day and apparently still now, hasn’t really aged in a decade. He wants to look that timeless in a decade too. Come to think of it, maybe he’s a Nen user, who’d know? Maybe he’s an acting genius.

Glancing aside at Lynch and Zakuro for their reactions is probably the most amusing, though. Lynch spends most of the movie scowling and looking disappointed, but taps his hand with a light giggle when Limarch first comes on screen. The unprecedented joy of the common ground they found, an understanding between bi kids who didn’t know how to define or call their feelings at the time. That connection long ago, among other things gave way to their newfound happiness together. He’d have no one but her.

Zakuro is the opposite of Lynch in regard to this movie, it seems. They look genuinely enthusiastic from beginning to end, and that on its own is a real joy to see. Even if he completely hated the movie, which he doesn’t, watching it with them would be worth it for this happy memory. Occasionally they lean in towards him to say something, quietly as they’re too appropriate to talk aloud in a theater and he gives a quiet snort in return.

“That’s bullshit,” Lynch whispers with a hiss when the heroes escape yet another toxic plant explosion by a mere moment. He gives her a soft touch of sympathy on the hand.

When they’re out of the hall, Lynch tosses the trash and turns to him looking like she died in there. She leans on him lightly, but enough to feel disoriented in a public space.

“I’ve got an idea of what to do next.”

“And what’s that?” She cocks her head, and in truth, he has no idea what to do next, he just really, really wants to see her reaction since she obviously wasn’t impressed with it.

“Go back and watch this again!” He pours any emotions he got from this screening into whatever face he’s making now and Lynch pauses, trying to parse if he’s serious or not.

That’s exactly what they did as kids, rewatching movies they liked until the cassettes heated up so much, it would melt on the inside. That’s at least what his mother told them, in a rare, unscientific moment from her, fondly remembered after so many years.

“Zakuro, what do you think?” She gives a little smirk, playing along.

“Sure!” They shrug, slurping up what remains of their soft drink.

Lynch places her hand on her hip. “Alright, who here is being serious?”

“I’m not if you’re not,” Zakuro turns to him, wide-eyed.

“I am if you are!” Hinrigh clasps his hands together, and even Lynch can’t resist smiling at this. She hugs him from the side, her head resting under his chin, pleasantly familiar.

“I don’t know... I’m tired of sitting, can we go somewhere else?”

“Lead the way!” He says, enjoying the short respite from leader duties.

They rejoin the tide of the crowd while chatting, and Hinrigh wonders if Zakuro’s unease about their own journey was eased by this movie. It doesn’t seem that way, but they’ve got a lot of good things to say about it, gesturing with their hands excitedly. Lynch joins in on how she would’ve changed certain elements, her meticulous attention to detail shining through. He finds it so engrossing he forgets where they’re headed to. 

“You said something about the effects earlier, right?” Lynch cocks his head at him when she’s finished speaking, and Zakuro looks at him with interest. Hinrigh claps his hands.

“Well, the creatures were computer-generated, they clearly didn’t put the most of their budget into that, so they were a bit… uncanny.” Before he can continue, Zakuro cuts in.

“I liked that they looked kind of creepy!”

“Yeah, but I was gonna say, you know I could conjure some convincing ones. They’d be like animatronics, still creepy but fleshy.” He mimics using his ability, and Zakuro nods.

For a moment he entertains it, recalling how the ability was developed through this, all the intricacies that led to its current state. It feels like the work of someone else, a zoological agency intern who bestowed it upon him. Would that person feel proud now?

When he looks at Lynch and Zakuro, the only possible answer seems to be _yes_. The shining sun he grew alongside and a dear youth with a promising future who he strives to support the best he can. Family has many faces and twice as many masks, but with them, there’s no need for a mask. Not with someone who may know him better than he knows himself and loves him despite that. Or as she would say, exactly because of that.

Lynch looks back at him, and every time she does he’s struck by how comfortable he is with her, and she with him. Peering into his soul isn’t a big deal when she’s laid it bare already. The fact that Zakuro trusts them so much as well means the world to him. His life took a turn for the better since they met, even as he found himself an unknown role.

“Here we are!” Lynch gently pokes him on the arm, pointing to where Zakuro headed in already. He treasures each moment he gets to share his free time with the two of them, the lights of his life. Having afforded themselves that, work can surely wait some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this hxhbb art piece](https://winderrific.tumblr.com/post/629367115574657024/heres-my-piece-for-the-hxhbb20-it-goes) by [@winderrific](https://winderrific.tumblr.com/) was done for this chapter so go check it out if you haven't already!
> 
> yan is one of the few background ocs that made it into the final draft, good for him. he's mostly a placeholder character for togashi's future introductions. sonne limarch is actually a canon character, or at least mentioned once. his used tissues were sold at the auction in yorknew
> 
> the longest adventure or whatever tf i called it is your typical sff genre flick but also propaganda in the service of assuaging people's fears of an unknown world. i have a lot to say about the themes of this arc so let's hope i get to say it through the story rather than here in the notes, and that i get far enough to write the monarchy and mafia families of kakin crumbling. the next target is capitalism, and somewhere on the way we'll get the clown and the spiders, who will appear in this story later as per canon


	4. August 10th, 2001

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm finally posting this yay. two more to come soon, on two special dates (this one was meant to be on bi visibility day but look how that went) enjoy!
> 
> in this chapter:  
> non-graphic violence, fighting, guns

The sound of casters swiveling across metal flooring is the only thing that keeps Zakuro in the moment for their ascent across many decks. Lynch takes the lead on high alert, a single strand from her bun swaying in motion as she scans their surroundings.

They’re flanked by a small gang they picked up one deck below their destination, the uppermost deck. Their young leader seems more perturbed by Zakuro’s IV stand than whatever commotion awaits them above. It’s kind of understandable when most people associate a sight like that with someone who should be resting, especially when that someone is lugging around blood bags. Maybe it comes off as a strange improv weapon.

In a roundabout way, it is. Ever since Zakuro learned to manipulate their blood, and more importantly when they learned to do so consciously, it opened a bloody world of possibilities beyond simply not bleeding out. They don’t have to medicate much now, but they’re still awash with a sense of unease each time they use it successfully. Playing with life like that makes their Nen stronger, and at the end of the day they enjoy grasping a new blood trick or two. Who else can boast this, even among Nen users?

Their lead isn’t likely to be Nen users for the sheer banality of it, but it’s possible, and they’re definitely some sly opportunists. Hinrigh referred to it as smaller syndicates forming within theirs, which is apparently not good. Not when they aren’t passing any money upwards, which he has to account for, so it makes sense that he’s ticked off.

It’s hard to tell who’s coming and who’s going in this part of the fourth tier, which finds people pooling in from all sides. The few soldiers on deck leave the bulk of their work to Xi-Yu family underlings, who benefit quite a lot from getting to enforce their own standards of protection.

Something happened here, maybe a clash between Heil-Ly family underlings or freelance thugs from the third tier and those from the fourth tier, but the exact situation and outcome of it is lost to a game of telephone across more than ten decks. More disparate than a city, the limited communications are easy to take advantage of.

It doesn’t take a lot of asking around for Lynch to be directed towards their base, one of the many nestled somewhere in the hustle and bustle. She stares down the door like a challenger, and nudges it most lightly, while the people behind them ready themselves.

The door, of course, doesn’t budge, and she gives a slight huff in response. She pulls out a pin from her hair, catching Zakuro’s glance on the way and grasping the better idea that came to them. The thin metal is coated by a strip of aura, and she grazes it over Zakuro’s fingertip in a way that would be much more uncomfortable if they had to do it themself.

Picking a lock with a bit of their blood is smoother than the alternatives, and thanks to their practice it’s over before anyone can properly stand in awe of their skill. The ensuing shootout begins unceremoniously, and Zakuro ducks behind the door out of instinct. Their Ken is still nothing to boast about, and testing it out is not worth the unnecessary risk of getting shot.

The bullet that flies right past them is the last one before it turns into a close-quarters skirmish. They probably could have caught it if they practiced more, but instead it notches a metal panel and lands on the ground to the general disinterest of passerbys.

“He’s getting away!” Lynch’s voice rings out more with annoyance than anything, but she’s too caught up in the kerfuffle to give chase. What follows is the sound of two doors slamming.

Zakuro’s blood burns hot in their ears for a moment, and in the next a strand unravels further from their pricked finger, pulling itself taut in the direction of the sounds.

The would-be runaway finds himself caught, tripped on a fortified string of blood. It would’ve been outlandish to hear about and silly to witness had they not been the one behind it. Zakuro wonders if he regrets not staying inside now, horrified as he looks.

They drag him back inside to have a talk with Lynch. The wheels of their IV stand clink against bullet casings as they take in their surroundings in the small hideout. A few wounded, perhaps dead, they can’t be sure until they check up on them. It’s unlikely that the single clinic on the tier a few decks down can or will take them, so one of them is already dressing her own wound in a makeshift way. Zakuro contemplates offering help, with decent first aid skills of their own, but she seems to have it under control.

Lynch’s interrogation proceeds as it tends to, bluntly effective, her questions growing more specific by the punch. She sighs when the guy is out cold, checks his pulse then cracks her knuckles loudly. There’s a fresh bruise on her cheek, a reprieve from the grim tokens some of the others received.

“Well, that was annoying. I hope they at least kept their money around here. Search around!”

“What’d he say?” Someone pipes up before Zakuro thinks to, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that he didn’t audibly say anything. There’s a fluttering of drawers and papers on the other side of the room.

“It was a brew of freelancers and our own guys deciding to start duping us. Just slipped by our enforcer when some fighting happened around here, so they never paid out. Nothing new.” Lynch snorts. “Lubo, can your people keep house while we figure out what to do here? We need to fortify these far ends well, just ring up if someone else comes.”

Everyone seems more receptive to that than the alternative of getting up and leaving the place now, and the group’s leader takes Lynch aside to discuss something briefly.

“Oh, don’t worry!” She turns back to face them. “Let’s go, Zakuro! I’ll get your IV fixed up if you need it. Then we’re gonna phone our dear boss and see where to from here.”

* * *

Lynch always twirls her hair when talking on the phone, especially when it’s with Hinrigh. The satellite phone is a bit clunky to get used to holding, so she supports it with her shoulder, craning her neck aside.

They’re hanging around the upper central accessway area waiting for their next direction, just two people in an ever-moving crowd. Zakuro tries their best to look casually intimidating as they lean on the wall.

“Well, he’s pretty unruffled,” Lynch chuckles when the call is over, looking over towards them. “I guess this is a beyond petty thing for him. It’s good, though, I’m glad that he’s relaxing a bit.”

“Maybe this trip is good for something.” Hinrigh’s advanced seemed to have brought him both good and bad, with the bad being particularly unwieldy. It’s not a surprise that he’s been stressed ever since.

“Maybe! I think going out a bit helped him return to his own. Last night he even fell asleep before me.” Her face is illuminated in gentle warmth. “He looked really peaceful.”

“I’m glad!” Zakuro managed to get a good night’s sleep as well, besting their new bed. They wonder if they’ll actually get used to it so easily.

“In any case, he’ll send another Nen user here, just so nobody from the upside thinks of starting something. Not like that’ll stop them, but if they were wise it would.”

“What about us?”

“We’re free for now, but I suggest we stay out on the prowl for a while. We can go somewhere you want, though.”

That ought to end well. Though their cinema outing last night was a lofty investment of time, on Zakuro’s idea they chanced upon a familiar situation in a casino afterwards. The runners definitely didn’t hope to see the underboss there, ready to inspect even in his free time. Since that didn’t go as planned, Zakuro finds themself still in a mood for gaming.

“How about the arcade? I saw one in passing just a deck below.” While they don’t expect it to be very well-equipped, it’s more convenient than looking for one up on the third tier. Though at least they wouldn’t have to wait in line to go up like these other people.

This arcade, Zakuro is happy to discover, is actually pretty cool. While it does have the same weathered - even though it was recently built – look they’ve come to expect on this tier’s facilities, somehow that makes it more interesting. Lynch might agree, she has a particular taste in decoration.

“I feel like I’ve been here, and I haven’t been to an arcade in a decade!” She points to a charmingly gaudy green machine. “They got this shit from an abandoned warehouse.”

“You don’t like it?” Zakuro taps on their IV pole. Maneuvering it around the place is a mini game in its own. They didn’t bleed out enough to really want for a transfusion, but they’re going to get some chocolate later.

“No, I love it!” Lynch giggles. “Look there, they have Iron Fist… 6? Not bad actually, but there’s a bit of a line.” A flicker of a smile crosses her face. “Want me to shoo them off?”

“Let’s just wait!” She huffs at that and stands her ground. Her bruise is shiny in the fluorescent light. They spin some small talk, and Zakuro counts the scratches and dents on a Sea Raiders cabinet until Lynch calls them forward to play. She’s inserted coins into the game and it lights up before they know it.

The character selection presents them with a lot, but Zakuro wastes no time looking at it to spot the foxbear – no, someone with a foxbear mask – they’d like to play. Very different from the kind of choice they tend to make but they’re betting on something unusual. As they know little about the actual characters, they pause and look at Lynch.

“That’s a good one! Very dynamic.” She selects her own, a robot in an extravagant, flowery outfit. “This one’s sweet - and new! I want a character I’ve never played before.”

“Have you played this a lot?” Zakuro just wants to know what they’re up against.

“I guess… me and Hinrigh used to play back when there was only one game. It’s kind of one of the things that made me want to be a martial artist, which seems silly now, but you know. These guys look cool.” She gives a light smile. “Alright, are you ready to die?”

“Are you?”

Zakuro finds the controls trickier than their response suggests, especially with the IV cuff on their hand, but they keep a cool head and the first round is theirs. Lynch’s face shows no disappointment or worry.

“Okay, did you let me win?” She gives them a scandalized “Who, me?” look, but no response. That’d never happen in actual sparring, which despite her kindness, she takes seriously.

As soon as the next round begins, their poor foxbear gets flailed around like a rag doll, knowing no peace until the health bar spells their end. Lynch looks so apologetic again.

The final round, though, has Zakuro win by an edge, standing victorious at the edge of life. They’re not sure how it happened either, but they feel proud and their hands hurt.

“Good going! And I didn’t let you win this one, promise.”

“Now I get all of your money!” They hold their hand out, only half-serious.

“What?” Lynch taps the control panel. “We didn’t even have a bet.”

She still takes out her pouch wallet and pours out seemingly all of the coins, handing them to Zakuro ceremoniously. “Here you go, put these in whatever game you want next.”

Zakuro slots them into Iron Fist 6 again without much thinking, and the rematch is on.

* * *

The air is heavy with a rich smell of vegetables when they return to their living quarters. For the first time in a while, they come upon a rather casual, out-of-office Hinrigh. His tightly wound ponytail bounces behind him as he comes to greet them from the little kitchen cubicle. Always on hand, his satellite phone sits in the roomy pocket of his shorts.

“There you are, back from running my business.” His chuckle is drenched in an emotion that’s hard to parse. “You must be starving!”

“You could say so.” Lynch pulls him into a hug, unbothered by the fresh-looking stains on his promotional t-shirt.

“Well, I made stir-fry.” He rests his head on hers and looks at Zakuro in anticipation. Since they haven’t had lunch, and skipped out on buying something earlier in lieu of wanting to bake when they get back, they all but dart towards the kitchen.

Before they can sit down for dinner they set to first dismantle and store their IV stand, following the usual procedure, then wash their hands. They store the unused blood bags in a freezer and catch a glimpse of the freshly prepared food as Hinrigh takes to serve it.

Lynch soon joins them at the compact table, her face and hands glistening with water droplets and gentle soap. The stir-fry vegetables and chicken look absolutely delicious, which is backed up as soon as they take a bite.

The three of them try to have one meal together, as a family, every day. So far the pattern has been broken a few times by happenstance, but it remains something they want to practice. Just a bit of time together in peace, sharing food, goes a long way even on a bad day.

When they’re done, Zakuro sets their mind on the dessert they were going to bake, having raided the storage in preparation to know they’re well-stocked on ingredients, though they don’t need many for the kind of cookies they want.

“This was great!” They tell Hinrigh, who already seems delighted they ate up so quickly. “I like it even more every time you make it.”

“Got it, then I’ll make more and more of this.” He points at their practically wiped plate.

“I like the sound of that.” Lynch finishes her meal with a gulp of water. “This is better than when I make it!"

“Now you’re really flattering me. Yours is the best.”

Zakuro takes their leave along with their plate and goes to preheat the oven, standing over the slightly unfamiliar settings for a moment. They gather up the cups, bowl, tray and ingredients in no time and get to the measuring. At this point they could do some favored recipes with their eyes closed.

“I’m making chocolate cookies, do you two want any?” They incline their head back. “I’m gonna make a lot either way, I’ll bring some to other people in the base.”

“That’d be nice.” Hinrigh sets his empty plate on theirs and pats them on the head.

“And I’ll wash up when you’re done!” Lynch chips in.

Through stirring and scooping, the cookies take form in the foreground of a light conversation. The smell of chocolate brings something magical in the air. Zakuro keeps a keen eye on the tray as they slide it into the oven, and fifteen minutes or so pass by in a click. The cookies need some time to cool, so they gather up reusable boxes to separate them in.

Taking the first bite is always a trial of their own abilities, and thankfully they didn’t disappoint. It’s just what they’ve been waiting for today. They pass a cookie to Hinrigh and Lynch each, then follow it up by plopping the whole box meant for the three of them on the table. Of course they won’t eat all of Zakuro’s, so it’s needless to request.

“I’ll just be out for a moment to pass these around, if anyone doesn’t want them then you get more!” They giggle.

The first cabin they stop in brings some surprised greetings from associates they know only vaguely, but who doesn’t like unexpected food at their door? Truth be told, they didn’t exactly account for the number of cookies needed by individual people, so they hope it’ll suffice.

“IV fellow!” Zakuro isn’t sure how to feel at that being a recognizable characteristic even when they’re not dragging it around, but they’ll take it. “What’ve you got there?”

“Uh, chocolate cookies!” They drop the box into the older colleague’s leathery hands. “I made some so I’m sharing them.”

A similar successful exchange follows them through a few more cabins, and evidently their cookies are so good that nobody rejects them. The downside of that is that there’s nothing extra left for them. Well, they can always make more when they finish what they already have.

They return to Lynch and Hinrigh curled up on the couch, taking a moment of rest together but wide awake as evident by their chipper reaction to Zakuro’s return.

“Did you know Zakuro beat me at Iron Fist?” Lynch drawls. “Just the first time, though, I beat them after that.”

“Sweet! I wonder if they could beat me. You had a hard time, if I recall.” For that, he gets poked on the nose.

“Try backing that up in real life!” Lynch titters as Hinrigh gives her a light kiss on the cheek where her bruise is.

“What, like right now?”

“Not now, I’m tired,” she yawns. “Zakuro, your cookies were great! Don’t worry, we left you a lot.”

“Yeah, they were lovely as usual! Alright, let’s not sleep here.” Lynch lets herself be picked up and prince carried. “Good night!”

“I’m glad you like them. Good night!” Zakuro wishes back at them, while contemplating having some more as the two head to bed. They decide against it, as that might make it harder to fall asleep. Fighter, cook or anyone else, they all deserved a good rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was rewritten almost completely from its last version and is just far removed from its first draft, like most of the incoming chapters actually. it took long because i had a lot of irl priorities and not because it's dense or anything. i wanted to try introducing a bit of action so i can ease into it more naturally later, while also balancing the usual slice of life elements. and epic gamer moments i guess
> 
> iron fist is a tekken expy obviously. i don't know a lot about tekken and i've never been to an arcade so like many things it's just based on what i took from media. do arcades still exist? i sure hope so because i'd love to visit one


	5. August 11th, 2001

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for my birthday i bring you a punctual update. sadly, here's where the search for hisoka plot starts

A beeping sound wakes Lynch from her dreamless sleep, and though it doesn’t sound much like the alarm clock, she can’t bring herself to care. She shuts her eyes more tightly to attempt sleeping again despite it, when the sheets stir and the beeping stops.

“Hello?” Hinrigh whispers in the faintest voice that she can yet hear this close by, and the other side of the line blares something she can’t discern. “Yes, sir… I’ll be right up.”

In pitch darkness, the sound of him padding across the floor is distinct no matter how quiet he intends it to be. The sound of the shower follows soon, and Lynch tries shutting it out to no avail. While she would rather rest more, she contemplates wishing him good morning, or whatever time it is, before he goes.

“Hin…” she mumbles, rolling aside wrapped in covers.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he calls from the direction of the tiny bathroom. The lack of windows or any kind of natural light makes their current residence so unnerving, especially at night with the lights out.

“Nuh-uh.” Lynch yawns and leans against her pillow. “Turn the light on, I don’t mind.”

If it’s already morning, she might as well get up, and she probably isn’t getting any more sleep. The light clicking on treats her to a silly sight as Hinrigh crosses to where their closet is, half-dressed and groggy, his unbrushed hair swaying. She’s learned to appreciate this the most over the years, he’s the cutest in his relaxed state at home.

“I was trying not to disturb you, sorry again,” he mutters, drawing on his suit jacket. The one with the thick stripes, she likes that one. “Apparently, it’s important. I guess there could’ve been a worse time.”

Lynch contains a laugh. From his griping about it, he gets called a lot, but most things can be settled over the phone. What warrants his presence must be something that can’t abide anyone listening in on the line. “Maybe it’s really critical.” She wouldn’t mind it, actually.

Too much calm doesn’t suit her, not when it’s this deceptive. When all hell breaks loose in less than two months over land disputes and who knows what else, she’ll be glad she was kept on edge and not lulled into comfort. As it stands now, the only people to have given her trouble were below her class, easily pacified like all who aren’t Nen users are. She wants to be truly challenged for a change.

“We’ll see.” Hinrigh sits down at the foot of the bed with the pocket mirror and makeup bag, balancing them on his knee as he tries but fails to finish his getting-ready routine.

“Need help with that?” Lynch straightens up, feeling a slight chill when not under the warm and heavy cocoon of the covers anymore. Like with light, the ship is isolated from temperatures normal for August, so it gets pretty cold unless the room has heating on.

“Sure! You’ll do it quicker.” He shifts around to sit on the bed, thankfully not having yet put his shoes on, while she scoots forward and cups his face in her hand.

The eyeliner pen is easy to use on another person, so despite not using it much herself she loses no time getting his usual shape done in four precise strokes. His eyes circled in black make him look a bit more alert, less like he just woke up as he did.

She takes the eyebrow pencil at a slightly different angle and his unblinking eyes follow her brushing upwards. The way he does it, which she knows by heart at this point, is particular, very typical of him. With how she styles herself, she’s not one to judge unusual eyebrows anyway.

His hair is soft under her fingers, and she runs them through to untangle, but more to feel it. She moves a few strands and the shirt collar aside to dab some concealer on his neck. A light kiss on the other side of it elicits a chilled response, gripping her hand for something to hold onto.

“There. It’s nice.” He doesn’t even check himself in the mirror before thanking Lynch, drawing her hand from where it rests at his chin to his lips for a kiss.

Deprived of cuddling on this morning, the spell broken by a beep, they sink into a grounding embrace. She leans into him to build up warmth, gathering it breathlessly. With a decisive goodbye kiss, Hinrigh slinks off to retrieve his shoes and go, suddenly driven by a rush he lacked moments ago.

“I’ll get back soon, I hope!” He gives a wave before making a run for it.

Since Lynch has thoroughly woken up, she can’t just stay in bed, despite how warm it is. She stretches, luckily allowed by the dimensions of the room, and then some. When the new underboss gets the best cabin and she’s his right hand as they’d say, she gets the best one too. Or at least the only one not consisting of a closet. To compensate, she made sure Zakuro got the nicest one out of the remaining and bought them whatever they wished for the trip.

They’re probably still sleeping, as they should. After her own morning routine and breakfast, she’ll train with them, but first she must meditate on her own Nen. She dresses and slips on a soft shirt that can be hers for the moment, Hinrigh won’t mind. Before she can fall into focus, she thinks of birthdays again, a set thought in her mind each year after hers passes and the time to prepare for her loved ones encroaches.

Both Hinrigh and Zakuro will be spending theirs on this floating tin can, if her calculation’s right, so she ought to prepare something nice for them. Maybe for a fun outing they can go check out something on the upper decks that they haven’t had a chance to see yet. Who knows what awaits them up there.

* * *

She doesn’t make it far outside when Hinrigh rings and tells her to call in an urgent meeting. From the uncanny way his voice wavers for a moment, she has an idea of what to expect, but doesn’t want to assume. By the time he descends, a few people have gathered in a cabin of their base, waiting to hear what has come up and what the course of action will be.

So the Spiders on board, whispered about but left untouched for the lack of actual clues on what they’re doing, have finally made their move. Thus their boss above saw it right to make a move of his own as soon as possible. One that shouldn’t reach their rivals’ ears just yet, but it must have already.

For that factor of outrunning them, they have to strike. Since the Spiders are hunting a fugitive, hunt ahead and catch him first to gain leverage over them. Their Community would have to steel themselves now to prevent another fiasco like in Yorknew a few years ago. One that benefited the families of Kakin, as it wasn’t their turf that was targeted, but that’s subject to rapid change.

Of course, there’s a complication, there always is, like the nature of the fugitive they’re hunting. Not just anyone. As Hinrigh doles out his orders to various lieutenants in person and over the phone, to search through the passenger list, to request a round of ticket verification, but prepare for nothing, she wonders if he’s even a little bit alarmed. His face reveals nothing, but his eyes are aflame in a sort of zeal that’s almost contagious.

Most of that facade deflates like a balloon as the meeting clears, and he turns to her. “Lynch, you have information on Hisoka, right? Give me a primer on what we’ll be up against.”

“You want footage of his matches or something? Because that’s what I’ve got.”

“Yes, you’ve got just about what I need! You and Zakuro can go over that, we need to draw up a strategy, since we’ll be the ones to subdue him.” Hinrigh lets out a deep breath, seeming to deflate completely when something flickers in his eyes again. “I’ll be with you soon, but I’m actually going to try and make a personal appeal to the Queen. I feel she’s more likely to listen to my request than Yan or others, she said she likes me.”

“Oh, she likes you, really? She said that?” A hearty laugh sounds through her. Though the Third Queen probably has a positive opinion of him, if any, he’s just paraphrasing now.

“Don’t be jealous.” He snorts. Of whom that would be, she isn’t sure. “She told the Boss I’m a ‘nice young man’, and I don’t wanna be cynical, I really appreciated that.”

“Was that before or after he called you to help with his Facebox?”

“Stop it, you!” Hinrigh hangs his head down. “Actually, it was way before that. She may have gotten me promoted, even. Anyway, we have a manhunt on, I hope it’s enough to amuse you. Go look for stuff on Hisoka, you can pester me when we’re done with him.”

Seeing no more point in goofing off for the time being, she goes to look for Zakuro. They’re just about where she expected to find them, making breakfast in their little kitchen. She hopes Hinrigh will come back soon while the eggs are still warm.

“Good morning? Did you just wake up?” They’re still in their pajamas, hair tied back in a short ponytail.

“Yup! Well, some time ago, but I just lazed around for a while.”

“I hope you had a good rest, because we’ve got a real task at hand.” She takes to passing the info onto them as they eat. Hinrigh’s plate awaits him covered by a plastic bowl found nearby.

“So, we’re hunting for the guy who blew up half of Heavens Arena?”

“No, that would be the guy who’s hunting him too. Who we have to outplay. And his whole Nen user gang.” Every addition that slips her tongue leaves a sour taste that didn’t come from the eggs. “I also wouldn’t say it was half, it was about-“

“Great! Do we have a plan?” Zakuro rests their chin on their hands, lips curved in a stilted smile.

“I’ll look through what we can use to analyze his abilities. We have to prepare for the worst, the sooner he pops up the less time we’ll have to act.” She reclines on the couch and plops her laptop onto her knees. The sounds of whirring water and scrubbing from Zakuro washing up accompany the start of her search.

To say Hisoka is not a favored fighter of hers would be putting it nicely, and it’s been that way even before the opinion-polarizing destruction left in the wake of his last battle. Still, being the dedicated follower of all things Heavens Arena that she is, she has a useful array of dirt on him.

It dawns on her only now how lucky Hinrigh is to have her here. With no easily accessible internet, her collection of material is priceless on the spot. Though it’d be useful to hunt for an internet connection, which she found herself blissfully freed from in the last few days. Anything to stop herself from checking up on social media for people she’s not even friends with.

Lynch lays back, kicking her feet up in the air in a scramble for comfort. It’s hard to not simply laugh off the kind of people that ineffectively try to poke holes in her happiness, rather convinced that Hinrigh doesn’t love her. If they find it so hard to believe that he likes women, what would knowing that she does as well do to their fragile little minds?

She really needs some actual friends, but that’s another day’s worry. Now’s the time to steel herself against some actual foes.

* * *

Playing a fight from 1999, a sordid affair of drama and revenge that Lynch doesn’t have the slightest interest of getting into, she pauses it to point at the In-concealed strands of their target’s Nen.

“I say we first settle on what’s happening here.”

“He’s moving the stuff, so is he a Manipulator like me?”

“Could be, but look at how the strands... do you see them?” Zakuro shakes their head.

Lynch taps her eye lightly. “Try to concentrate on it, you know.”

“Oh, Gyo!” After a few moments, an astonished look dawns on their face. “It’s like glue… his aura I mean, stuck onto the things. So what would that be?”

“Transmuted, I guess.” Lynch hums.

It all happens faster than she can keep up with. Around ten o’clock, as she’s carefully tracing the movement of a fight with Zakuro, an announcement blares through the innards of the Black Whale, rolling like thunder. It’s somewhat hard to comprehend from where they’re hearing it, but Hinrigh confirms her suspicions upon his return.

The good thing, as he says, is that the military are doing the ticket checks they were supposed to do, and that there’s a full force out there looking for an armed stowaway. The bad, of course, would be that the military lockdown not only put a stop to their operations, but this takeover of the search for Hisoka would disadvantage their syndicate against the Spiders even if they cooperated with the boots.

“Oh, they’re not looking for Hisoka,” Hinrigh corrects himself a few sentences into his tirade. “I mean, yeah, they’re looking for this spree killer, but they don’t know it’s him.”

“Nice, so we’re still in the lead.” She supposes it doesn’t mean much in the long run, but a sense of vague victory emboldens her.

“How do _we_ know it’s him?” Zakuro pipes up, not flinching or second-guessing it. “I mean, what if they’re chasing after some other guy and our guy is using it to get away?”

“Good question,” Lynch mutters, weighing it. There’s all sorts of people in this world.

“We don’t know it for sure either, Zakuro. I think we should use the limitations we have now to work on our strategy. I’ll see what info I can get on these killings.” Hinrigh adds.

With everyone locked in and more alarmed than before, she receives the missing pieces she asked for in no time. The military sweep won’t reach their deck in hours, guessing by their numbers and usual efficiency, but Hinrigh believes most of their bases are safe from scrutiny, especially if they cooperate.

“Alright, wanna see what I’ve gathered on our target?”

“I’m listening.” He gestures with his hand behind his ear, seating himself next to her.

“No, see. I have to show you what I’m talking about,” she giggles, and he follows, ruffling the rising tension.

Hinrigh watches and listens intently through two videos, both featuring an opponent getting practically torn apart, but looks more on edge when Chrollo Lucilfer comes on. For the first time since they boarded, he looks relieved to take a phone call, and books it towards their cabin when he hears a ring.

She doesn’t like looking at the man either, not even as a respite from the gaudy magician who she’s had to observe for the past hour, but his response feels like something more. Lingering discomfort from his near brush with death in the form of a spider feels like something that’s itching to be addressed, but she doesn’t want to put that pressure on him just yet.

For something so pivotal in the trajectory of his life and the worldwide Community as a whole, he doesn’t speak of his time in Yorknew as much as one would expect. The occasional joke about the top worst birthdays of his life touches upon it, but that’s more of a deflection than anything. Idolized by a striking number of youth in the underworld, the infamous Spiders seem to strike only discomfort into him.

Lynch understands that well, where someone with different experiences might not. Despite his triumph over them by surviving the attack unlike many, the feeling in the back of his mind must be calling it his fleeting luck.

Yet even if he doesn’t speak of taking the fight to them, he must’ve thought of it. They’ll cross that bridge when they get there, but it’s not as simple when it might be moving towards them. With Hinrigh’s help and whatever they can gather, they ought to delve into their abilities and weaknesses as well. It pains her to imagine the consequences of being unprepared again.

Turning her attention towards Zakuro who’s been silent beside her for a while, she gives them a light nudge. “You okay?”

They nod vigorously, still saying nothing. She holds out a hand in support, and when Zakuro gives her an eager high-five, she feels her heart soften. There’s no need for words to express their shared, treasured trust. Hinrigh returns as she begins to wonder where he is, looking a bit unsettled but under control.

“Boss held me up, and he takes twice as long to get to the point over the phone.” He sighs, out of breath. “I did what I planned though, we’re gonna present most of what we have to the military and work with them, alright?”

“Nice plan.” Lynch nods, and Zakuro follows. It’s not like they can refuse it plausibly with the numbers they have, nor turn down helpful information. “Do you want to continue watching? We’ve got a lot of time on our hands.”

Hinrigh smiles bitterly, but it sweetens the longer he holds her gaze. “This guy better watch out.”

Lynch shares his assurance, though she can’t help thinking he’d only say that when he’s got her to back him up physically. Well, he’s right, as she will eagerly back him up. Facing a Floor Master is chilling to think about, but there’s one of him and three of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter hasn't been through a lot, but for that i find it a bit less polished than the others so expect me to edit it somewhat when i see fit. so, we're getting into the meat of togashi's story though it's going to stay somewhat understated for a while, but believe me when i say i'm preparing just desserts

**Author's Note:**

> q: what's this anyway?
> 
> a: long, self-indulgent story focused on cherishing the nuances of everyday life, gradually leading the featured characters out of their current way of life through my own take on togashi's plot, towards a revolutionary overturn of the world. the future isn't looking good for the monarchy, crime syndicates or capitalism. but this is mostly found family slice of life with honest projection and a smattering of familiar succession war plot


End file.
